Dissonance And Demons
by twitchasaur
Summary: Dante is a half demon and demon hunter who seems to always meet people with problems nearly as bad as his own. One day he witnesses a strange event, even compared to his norm.He is pushed into tragedy, sorrow, pain and revenge. Just the usual for Dante.


Devil May Cry

**Dissonance and Demons**

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Twitchy: I do not claim any rights to the DMC franchise, that is all capcoms! I however do claim the original charaters and plots in this story, nothing else, so please read and review!

Rating for later chapters!

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**Prologue**

"Dante it's my problem, not yours."

They sealed the gates right in front of the silver haired man. The large ornate metal doors glinting in defiance at him, as if it was their will that he be kept away from the fight.

It would not be opened with blood weaker than its sealer's.

And so he had watched a friend gone foe, back into the shadows, dark blue eyes were the only sign and testament that they were even there in the darkness.

Then the gates closed in front of their solemn face as Dante ran to try and stop them.

He was to late.

He slammed his fists against the door and used every weapon he had at his disposal to try and break it down. But all of his strength, weapons, and power would not open the door.

He was a commodity yes, with blood of both human and demon running through his veins. But the person who had sealed the door, they were a travesty. Something never meant to be, no matter how much lust or love play in the part.

Dante's blood stood no chance when weighted next to theirs.

So he looked on with fury at the blood sealed gates, his cerulean eyes bleeding to red, the air around him shifting and changing from the heat of his rage.

Dante hacked and slashed at the malignant gate, not many could stand this onslaught for long. But this gate withstood it, daunting him with its height and power like few enemies ever had.

He continued, his demonic face twisted and contorted in anger. His demon blood fueled him now. He was still Dante, deep inside, but his demon had taken over for the moment and attacked the gate with the fuel of rage from its other half.

Then a voice filled the large gray stone room, a voice that was filled with soft tones of a beautiful woman, and coarse tones of a man with evil in his heart.

The voices intertwined together, creating chaos and dissonance that somehow sounded beautiful and ancient in the echoing way they spoke.

"Your blood is to weak, son of Sparda. The gate is bound by the blood of a birth that was heresy."

He glared, his form shifting back to a silver haired man in a long leather coat.

"I don't have time for some big flashy doors to tell me stories, so let me in."

"We cannot. Your blood is rare, but theirs is more so, the one to heaven or hell will never go."

He shot at the door with his beloved guns for what must have been the millionth time.

"Stop talkin' in riddles and open the damn door!"

The voice paused, choosing its words before it spoke again.

"Young Halfling, son of Sparda. The door will not and cannot open, until the one who sealed it is on the brink of death."

The voice faded away until Dante was left in silence, the sounds of his fury and attacks no longer echoing off of the walls to keep him company.

Light poured into the chamber from the stained glass windows, making colored patterns on the floor of stories and prophecies of old.

His eyes widened, the muscles in his jaw clenching tight with realization.

He walked closer, light splaying across his alabaster skin.

In the glass there was the answer that was dawning in his eyes. A macabre picture of a faceless hairless woman, with beautiful high cheekbones and delicate hands; and despite the vagueness of her appearance; she was beautiful.

She seemed to be in pain, her arm stretched as far as it would go trying to reach another's hand. A faceless man, with the same vague but more masculine beauty as the woman.

She was trying to pull him free of the chains that were laced around his form pulling him into fires of hell. The two each had two sets of wings protruding from their back, one set leathery and brown with veins splaying across there surface, yet the other wings were made up of beautiful snow-white feathers.

"I told you, I'm not worth it. A sacrifice is a blessing for me."

He mumbled the words, he had just solved a great mystery, and he had found that last missing but critical piece to the puzzle. He knew why they were doing this.

They had said this to him in a hushed whisper as they looked at the ground.

"I'm no savior."

The words had echoed in his mind since they had uttered them in a hushed whisper, desperate, afraid, and in pain.

He gritt his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides, then he sprung forward into the glass sending shards to the ground in a rain of colored light.

He ran back to the door, his fists colliding with the metal again and again until they were bloody and the pearly bone was visible. His knuckles quickly started to heal, small strands of skin interlocking together to cover the exposed bone and tissue.

His mind raged, he was the one who made self sacrifice, he was the one who faked happiness and confidence, he was supposed to be the one to go down in a blaze of glory ; not them...not her.

He hit his fists against the door again, screaming, hoping maybe that she would hear him and unseal the door.

"You just keep finding new ways to piss me off!"

But the gate stayed sealed.

He stopped screaming, and again he was attacked by the onslaught of silence.

Snow blew in gusts from the hole where the window had been, covering the ground in a carpet of glittering white.

Then he jumped, the gate was opening. Old gears and pulleys were moving, magic seals removing themselves off of the gate.

Then they opened.

There was no darkness as he had expected from seeing it before, just blinding light.

It encompassed everything giving the room an ethereal glow.

With the snow, it was hard to tell if the floor was even there anymore.

He stepped forward, if what the voice had said was true…

Another step, snow crunching noisily under his booted feet.

If he hadn't known he'd broken the window, he would have thought this was the sound of light being stepped on, not snow.

And then, he stepped forward his body disappearing into the bright light.

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twitchy: my friend asked for a definition of dissonance, dissonance is a music term that in a nutshell means clashing melodies.


End file.
